


Save It for Sweeps

by PromdynGeorg



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Ship It - Britta Lundin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Humor, M/M, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Parody, a lot of TV jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26037061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PromdynGeorg/pseuds/PromdynGeorg
Summary: Noctis and Prompto are the stars of a weekly monster hunting drama on a network similar to but legally distinct from the CW. They and the fans are pushing for the leads to get romantically involved, but the evil showrunner has other plans.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	Save It for Sweeps

“Look,” Noctis said, “just make SilverNight canon. It'd mean a lot.”

“It's pretty much there already,” said Prompto. “Dude, you killed off the love interest and then gave them the princess rescue thing. There totally could've been a kiss there. Seriously, you kept telling me to go 'sixty per cent more doe-eyed.'”

“That had to be on purpose,” said Noctis.

The showrunner looked at both of them from beneath straggles of purple hair. A slow smile twisted his lips, and a low, dark laugh roiled through the dusty prop room like a rising wave.

“Of course it was on purpose,” Ardyn said. “I've been playing the fanbase for fools since the rooftop heart-to-heart in the pilot. And I've only begun.”

Prompto's eyes widened. “So you knew-”

“Oh, I always knew about those hordes of dear degenerates out there, gazing at the screen with stars in their eyes and drawing the two of you engaging in lewd antics. What do you think is in the folder on my laptop labeled Tax Statements 2016-2017?”

“Taxes?” said Prompto.

“Ew,” said Noctis.

“I was content to let that little shadow romance play out indefinitely, but you've gotten greedy.” The showrunner stepped toward them, looming in the light of the bare bulb. “You had to press for your way. So do you know what I'm going to do now?”

“You can't.” The blood drained from Prompto's face. “You can't kill off Silver.”

“No, no. Killing you off would be too easy.” A murderous smile twisted Ardyn's face. “I'm going to retool the entire show. Say goodbye to your precious lighthearted monster-of-the-week SF adventure.”

He flung out his arms in a storm of shadows.

“It shall become a prestige drama! About a middle-aged white man with a secret dark side! It will be revealed that the entirety of your story has been a psychodrama unfolding in his imagination, with the two of you merely constructs who represent things!”

“Who represent what?” said Noctis.

“It doesn't matter,” said Ardyn through a triumphant sneer. "The critics will do that work for me. Every thinkpiece shall be as fire in my veins!”

“What about the fans?” Prompto protested. “People love this show!”

“The more fool they to love anything. Their outrage will make for a marketing campaign in itself. And it will only continue after the reveal in the finale.”

"Let me guess," Noctis said, "it'll turn out everybody was in Purgatory." 

"Oh, essentially." The malice in Ardyn's smile deepened. "But just different enough in the details that no one you mention it to will ever stop correcting you." 

“You're a monster,” said Noctis.

“Oh yes.” The showrunner's eyes turned yellow and black, and a dark liquid ran from the corners like the mascara of Hell. “That too.”

“We have to call an exorcist!” Prompto gasped, grabbing Noctis's arm. “Or Emily VanDerWerff!”

“You won't get away with this,” Noctis said. “We'll tell your bosses the whole story.”

A laugh burbled from Ardyn's throat. “Go right ahead.” He set his foot on the seat of the prop throne from the season three finale. “Did you forget we're a Fox network? I'm barely the seventeenth most evil person in the building! And that's only since they finally fired Bill O'Reilly.”

“You weren't always like this,” Noctis said desperately. “I've seen your old social media stuff. There's things you care about. You were devastated when they canceled Better Off Ted.”

“It never had a chance to find its audience!” Ardyn cried, stamping on the throne in rage. It shattered and chunks of fragile wood flew everywhere.

“Also you should maybe put some more money into the props depart...oh.” Prompto covered his mouth with his hand.

Ardyn looked down at the splintered chair arm stuck deep in his chest like a stake.

He looked up.

“No matter,” he said. “But what a shame. I'll have to have this shirt repaired.”

“The legends are true,” Noctis whispered.

“That's right.” Ardyn pulled the piece of wood from his chest in a spray of ichor. Black fluid dripped from the corners of his smile. “I am the one who thirty-one years ago made the deal at the crossroads with the demon Ruuprtma'ardok. As long as the Simpsons is on the air, I cannot die.”


End file.
